A gruesome discovery -Fearshipping-
by swagaliciousbitxh
Summary: Fearshipping. Marik has fallen into a coma unexpectedly, and Ishizu, an investigative reporter, begins delving into several murder cases that have been sent to her by an unknown source. She begins to notice a similarity amongst them, and fears for her life, fearing her brothers old "friend" has returned for some good old fashioned revenge.
1. Chapter 1

"Your brother is in a coma-"

My hands seize the walls, feet losing the friction they had against the icy tiles as I slide down the divider. It takes a moment for my brain to register her words, eyes scanning the bumpy texture of the wall directly across from me. I clasp a hand over my mouth, tears beginning to flow from under my closed eyelids.

"I'll be right there," is what I meant to say, but it sounded more like, "Eye'll ba ret tere."

It takes a brief time period to gather myself together, pick the broken fragments of Ishizu Ishtar up off of the ground. Using the wall as my guide, I attempt to stand, my wobbly legs shifting under my weight. Luckily, I don't fall, just wobble on my heels a bit like a woman who has never worn them before would.

Grabbing my purse, I dash inside my car, starting the ignition as fast as my trembling hands will allow before taking off.

"Marik," the words slip from my mouth as I take quick steps towards him. The nurse slowly steps out of the room and shuts the door. My eyes glaze over with tears once more, gripping his icy hand in one of my own. It's unbearable; seeing such a perky boy confined to a sort of death sleep. I let the tears fall, resting my head near his slightly darker one. If I could climb into that cot with him I would. I wonder what he's dreaming about. I hope he has good dreams.

I sit with him in silence for awhile, before my lips find his forehead, planting a small butterfly atop it. I run my fingers through his golden locks, staring down at him through the tears, an insufferable smile glued to my cheeks.

"Wake up, okay?" I whisper, beginning to rise as I can take no more of this emotional torture.

As I exit the sanitarium, my mind reflects on what one of the doctors told me: "It's very rare that he fell into this coma, he shows no sign of a fatal illness or medical problem that could be the answer. He just fell into it."

He just fell into it. I readjust my purse, burrowing my hands deeper into the warmth of my pockets. Patients in the lobby all direct their attention towards my tear stained face, blotchy and red as it is. It's even more cruel than the stupid card I've been dealt, so I dash out of there quickly.

The world continues to prosper, so I will too. The only thing I can really think of doing is working my butt off, just to distract my mind off of everything. Once I no longer needed to play the museum curator card, I took up work as an investigative reporter. If you don't know what that is, basically think of someone who goes to extreme lengths to solve a case or present one. Basically, an idiot. Yet, I've done exactly that, exposing corrupt officials and helping solve a handful of murder cases. The editor, Hondo, an old friend of mine, considers me the best reporter he's got, allowing me a variety of stumping cases to choose from. It's not really for the money, or the good feeling I get afterwards, but it's mainly for myself. I don't really have a lot of friends, and work is almost like a de-stresser. Oh God, I'm becoming Seto Kaiba.

The thought makes me chuckle. "You haven't grown heartless yet, Ishizu Ishtar," I murmur to myself, dropping my purse and dodging loose papers scattered across the floor as I flop down into my business chair. It has a special name because it's the only fancy chair I have, all black leather with wheels, and it's right in front of my desk, too.

I lean forward, wheels gliding across the floor as I slide closer to the desk. Unlocking my computer, I check some of the files he's sent to me, noticing a new one. Must've been sent while I was with Marik. I swallow, a lump beginning to form in my throat.

'No, don't think of that.' I chide myself, dragging the mouse over and clicking it. A page pops up, not fitting the usual format he often sends the cases in. I shrug, deciding to think nothing of it and scroll down to read the title: 'Three women found dead.' Hm.

I scroll further, a graphic image popping up. I turn away quickly, nearly gagging on my coffee. Although it is rare Hondo would send a photo along with his letters, he usually censors them well enough to where it isn't completely disgusting.

There's a little text box beneath the image, and I read it: 'Victim 1, unidentified. Brutally raped by a man and several objects.'

What the hell? I begin reading the first victims story below.

'Victim 1. A short, middle aged woman with black hair and fair skin. Face missing. DNA analysis will confirm identity. Several large bruises appear on the body, as a result of a brutal rape, stretching her out.'

I shudder, not too fond of the reproductive act. I've heard at a man's will, it can be very, very painful.

'Her labia majora and minora were shred to pieces, her clitoris on the ground nearby. A sharp, knife like object was stuck inside her vagina, as her captor moved it in and out in a cruel manor, causing immense pain.'

My eyes flutter towards the image once more, against my will, noticing a large slit coming from the crotch area towards the belly button.

Tears fill the corners of my eyes as I imagine how painful her last moments on earth must have been, crossing my legs together in an attempt to put those haunting deeds out of my mind.

I notice the skin of her face is gone, along with her eyes, leaving behind empty red sockets. Her body is nearly black and veiny, from the various lump sized bruises occurring across her disproportional body. Bones ripple out from beneath her organ-less body, skin dished out in awkward positions, mangled parts of tissue scattered around her.

The rest are even less appealing, this serial killers style getting more and more gruesome. However, I notice a common streak between the three corpses: Each was murdered on a Wednesday, each had black hair, and each were currently living alone. The similarities are alarming because, they all relate to me.

As I'm pondering buying myself a blonde wig, my inbox lights up. Of course I check it without a second thought, surprised the message is from Hondo.

'Have you decided which case your taking yet?'

He usually gives me a couple assignments, letting me choose before anyone else. I begin typing back, fingers flying across the keyboard.

'Yes..I chose the one about the rape/murders?'

I lean back, surprised at how quick he responds.

'How did you gain access to that?'

I'm surprised, reaching for my phone and dialing his number slowly.

"Hondo?" I ask, brow furrowing.

"Ishizu? How did you, uh, get that case?" He responds shakily.

"You sent it to me, along with all the others." I respond questioningly, wondering why he's chosen to keep it from me.

"Damn, I must've accidentally sent it to you. Hey, uh, don't tell anyone about this okay? The chief didn't want this information getting out." I frown.

"Why not? Doesn't the chief trust me?"

"He didn't specify, look, just delete the file, okay?"

I nod, saving the document. "Done. I guess I'll look into.." my eyes scan the list of documents I ignored, finding one that seems me-ish. If that makes any sense.

"Alright. Again, I'm real sorry about this Ishizu. Anyway, I've gotta go to bed," he mumbles, hanging up the phone. He always does stuff like this, so straightforward. I smile faintly, glancing at the file I didn't delete.


	2. Striking Similarities

**Disclaimer: He calls everyone babe xD so don't get the wrong idea! I'm also sorry if this fanfic sucks, but I'm trying my best! The next chapter will have more fearshipping! I promise :) **

I sit in silence, pressed against the cool leather. My eyes wander the room, drumming my fingers against the small coffee table. Hondo's busy texting, making calls or reviewing paperwork. I've mentioned he's a very straightforward man before, but he's also a workaholic, sort of like me, except in a different way. I'm beginning to get a bit pissed off, since I came her for more information on the case. I still haven't worked out the perfect way to ask him, but-

"So, what did you want again Ishizu?" He asks, flipping his phone closed and raising his brows expectantly. Before I can even think of what to say, I'm cut off.

"Hold on." He opens his phone again, silencing the chime. "Oh yes! It's, uh, it's upstairs!" He darts up the staircase. My gaze sinks to the floor, beginning to wonder if I should just leave when he hurries back down, gripping the railing like a madman.

He grabs his car keys and begins exiting the house as I turn, gripping the couch and looking at him.

"Hondo? Where are you going?" I ask, my features forming a pouty expression. He raises his shoulder to hold the phone in place as he wraps a jacket across his shoulders, glancing at me.

"I've got to dash out real quick, I'll be back and then we can talk, I promise."

"But-" I start, a pleading tone creeping into my voice.

"Look, can you just wait for fifteen more minutes babe?" he asks, closing the door as an answer. I make an unamused face, flopping back down on the couch. He always says that.

The large house is silent and dark. I turn on the tv so it doesn't get too quiet. After about five minutes of roaming the halls, going up and down the stairs, a thought occurs to me. There's no way Hondo is going to give me more information, especially with his job riding on the fact he keeps it secret. Why am I even here then?

Then, another thought strikes me: I know where Hondo's computer is. His work computer. If I could hack into it somehow and save the files onto my hard-drive...

I dash up the mahogany staircase, fast walking past doors until I come across one I recognize. The room is pitch black, yet once I flick on the lights and my eyes adjust, I find it to be smothered in papers, with endless drafts scattered across the floor. And of course, the computer.

I sit in his work chair, beginning to turn it on. Damn, a password. According to studies, most individuals leave the password not to far away from the source. With all the papers however, that could prove to be a challenge.

My hands yank open every drawer attached to the desk, fingers flitting through every paper I come across.

I hop up, looking around the room desperately. It's unlikely he would hide the password in one of those stacks of papers where he would never find it, but then again, it wouldn't surprise me if he did.

It is Hondo after all. For some reason, I have a feeling the flamboyant side of him took over, deciding to hide the password where no one would ever think to look. But where? He's forgetful enough, seeing as how he left whatever he needed somewhere, so I know he must have written it down _somewhere_.

But where?

I lean against the wall, beginning to give up. He must have given me a clue once. Unfortunately I've only been in this room once when he was working, but I don't remember him pulling out a paper. There's also that unfortunate coincidence where he could keep the password with him as well, rather than hiding it in one spot.

I close my eyes, thinking back to that day:

_'The velvet curtains were drawn, allowing light to filter across the floor and tickle my nose. Hondo was busy working, allowing me to sit on the floor and lean against the wall watching him.' _

_'He's always had this odd habit of turning his computer off and looking at me for a minute, before lifting it up and looking under it. Then he goes right back to work. It's like _he's possessed or something.'

I jump up quicker than I ever thought possible, lifting his laptop and staring under it.

lollipop503.

Rolling my eyes, I type in the most retarded password in the history of passwords, unlocking the computer. A shocked smile spreads across my face as I gasp with joy. "Oh my god," I whisper to myself, sticking my hard drive inside the computer and opening documents.

_'Hondo should be coming back soon,' _I think, saving all the documents. I don't have time to pick which ones I want, drumming my fingers against the desk as each file saves.

A car rumbles in the driveway, and I dash to the window to see Hondo yelling into his phone.

_'Dammit hurry up!' _I think frantically, tapping my foot impatiently. He starts getting out of the car, slamming the door loudly as he makes his way around to the other side.

He juggles a large stack of papers in both hands, cupping the phone between his ear and shoulder.

Beads of sweat trickle down my neck, watching as file after file loads and saves. Finally, the a little notification pops up, reading:

_'Files successfully saved.'_

I yank my hard-drive out, zipping it quickly into my purse and shutting off his computer, dashing downstairs just as the door opens.

"Ishizu! Mind helping me?" He yells, his Italian accent thick with each word. I can tell he's pissed off, since his accent only really appears when he's upset. I nod, relieving him of the stack of papers and carrying it wobbly to a corner as he sits down, opening his iPad and shouting into the phone, mouthing a "thanks". I nod, before subtly telling him I'll be leaving. He doesn't seem to notice, so I just exit.

Once the door closes, I jump up and down with excitement, literally hopping towards my car. I'm so eager to get my hands on the information, I end up parking at a Starbucks and seating myself at one of the back tables, unlocking my laptop and opening the files.

I scan page after page of clues and information, possible suspects, clues, and so on.

As I suspected, two more victims have been raped and murdered, even more horribly than the last three. It's almost as if he's experimenting ways to kill them, testing different methods.

_'Cindy Gallegos, a Latina living on her own, was brutally raped, suffering from strangulation. She was sexually tortured, various bruises occurring from rough groping of the breasts and buttocks.'_

I shake my head, examining the images.

_'The striking resemblance between the victims suggests the killer is sending a message, or following a certain pattern. The letter M was carved into Cindy's back, her skin being peeled off slowly, excruciatingly with an apple peeler._'

The images are disturbing, especially when you see exactly what the women had to go through leading up to their deaths. Yet, I'm intrigued.

A man behind me gags on his coffee, and I turn, noticing his eyes are locked on my screen. I gulp, showing them my press pass, closing my laptop and exiting quickly.

_Shit. _

Hopefully none of them were able to read the text.

Once I reach my home, however, the atmosphere seems to have shifted. I no longer feel safe alone, especially with my resemblance to each victim. I hate to admit it, but I'm afraid of this killer. Fear seizes my mind, flowing through my veins as I begin reading about the most recent victim.

Before I can open the folder, a noise echoes through the house. It's an old house, so this is normal, yet I'm still frightened. I turn on all the lights, and even the tv for some noise, yet an uneasy feeling drapes across my gut. It's a strange feeling, one I've only felt once.

It was during a dark time in my life, when Marik was consumed by the evil spirit inside him. I constantly felt like I was being watched, felt the chilly breath trickle down my neck, causing goosebumps to prick up.

The spirits smug attitude was something I could sense with ease, his prideful demeanor even more obnoxious than Seto Kaiba's. So full of anger and hatred, fueled by jealousy and lust. He was the living embodiment of Marik's dark emotions. Always looking out for himself. I shudder, removing him from my thoughts.

'_He's gone now Ishizu,' _I think to myself as I begin scanning the text.

An Isabella Brooks, a tall female with long black hair and stunning green eyes. It's a shame such a lovely lady was murdered at such a young age. She's a bit older than me, and has the same features and olive skin.

_'Victims was found face down, drowning in her own blood.'_

I read further, before slipping out of my chair, trembling with fear. Tears flood the corners of my eyes, clouding my vision.

'_Her back was peeled off, found thrown to the side.'_

All of the painful memories come flooding back, when I first met Mariks "friend".

My father's body, slumped against the tiles, a sack of flesh tossed onto Rishid. The spirit, that demon, grinning up at me, hands hooked onto the Rod. The immobility that seized my limbs as he advanced towards me, a veil of icy determination covering my brothers features.

And then it's as if the world slides out from under me as reality crashes around me. It's a thought that's been pestering me ever since I delved into the case, yet I put aside because the very notion was crazy.

Yet, it all makes sense now. How much I resemble each victim, the case being "accidentally" sent to me in the first place.

It wasn't Hondo. It was him.  
That's why the format was different.

I remember him not being too clever with technology. And now, he's come back.

_'He's back.' _I think. _'He's coming for me.'_

That would explain the use of knives, and perhaps even have something to do with Marik falling into a coma.

My thoughts are interrupted by the screen fading to static, the lights beginning to flicker and a message scrawled across my laptop, the screen cracking.

_'Miss me?'_


	3. Highway to Hell

**Disclaimer: Okay, I still am getting used to or whatever xD I'm not even sure I'm using it correctly •~• also, thank you for all of your positive comments! I know I'm not the best writer, but there is such a lack of fearshipping I had to right something for it. I'm glad some people enjoy my work, and it warmed my heart to see your very well written comments o.0 so, I hope you enjoy. **

It's a bitterly cold afternoon, according to the news. I haven't been outside for a week after what happened. The message on my computer, the flashing lights and the static, and of course, my broken fucking computer.

This whole time I've been staying with Hondo, presumably the only friend I've got. I don't get out much, okay? Although his presence is comforting, his picky personality is driving me even more insane than I was to begin with.

For one, he makes me do 'errands' for him, in other words, everything he's too lazy to do himself. Now, I wouldn't be complaining, but it's the way he goes about these errands that bugs me. Hondo is a very high class, particular man, and he expects everything to be done a certain way. Going out to lunch with him is a disaster, one time he nearly flipped the table because his peas were touching his steak, when he had "specifically told the idiot of a waiter otherwise."

I feel like I'm a barista, for Pete's sake. Luckily, I'm a quick learner, and I've managed to keep him happy for the past few days. It's the least I can do, since I know he hates most people. Un-evolved apes, as he would call them. I don't really believe in evolution, but if it is true, that would explain a lot.

Anyways, I'm currently curled up on the couch, working on the brand new laptop I had to purchase. I don't like it, feels too new and naked. Not any of the dents or splotches I'm used too. I'm lucky, however, because I save all of my files frequently, so I've got most of them on my hard-drive. Including the ones I borrowed.

Thinking about the case makes me sick to my stomach, because I've got some aching feeling like it's my fault. I already know who's behind the killings, I'm sure of it now, yet I'm not sure what to do. If I told anyone I'd be admitted to a mental hospital, or worse, arrested for stealing evidence without permission. I'm sure Hondo would vouch for me, even though I stole from him and might risk him his job, yet I don't underestimate the court systems. What I did was wrong, but I feel like I had too, although now I regret it.

My mind only wanders to Marik, in his hospital bed, and the endless loopholes I don't know about. Unfortunately, everyone who knew about the Shadow Realm and it's magic is dead or disappeared now, and I'm pretty sure there isn't a Wikipedia article about it, either. The only other person who truly knew it's power is lying in bed, in a coma. I bury my face in my hands, finally understanding the utter hopelessness of my current situation.

Not only have I put myself in danger, but Hondo now as well, and possibly others.

Why is this happening to me? What did I do?

_What did I do?_

"Everything."

I jump back in fright, the words hot against my ear. Crisp and clear vowels, crunching against a smooth voice, laced with malice. As I expected, no one is there. I take a deep breath. Perhaps I could convince myself that it was simply my mind playing tricks on me. I could toss aside the thought altogether in fact. Yet I would only be stalling the conviction of my mind with an illusion.

"Do you believe in spirits?" I question out of the blue, to my surprise the constant tapping against a keyboard silenced for a simple answer: "No." The tapping resumes.

"There is a rational explanation for everything, Ishizu. You know I don't believe in all of that spiritual stuff," he replies back, and I know he holds an immense amount of disgust for the subject, let alone the very belief.

"I was just asking." I murmur back idly, eyes scanning the area where whoever spoke should've been located.

"Sure you were." He answers absentmindedly. I know what he's getting at. We often challenge each other's belief's. I show him my perspective of the world, and he shows me his. I don't understand what the purpose of living is to him, if there really isn't a life after death. He doesn't understand how someone could believe in a "make-believe illusion" with an "imaginary man in the sky", no matter how much evidence I send his way. I guess it depends on what you choose in your heart is true, and no amount of evidence or proof can change your mind. However, this time I wasn't trying to start anything, I simply wanted to know. It's surprising how many atheists believe in demons, and the other unexplained sightings.

I wanted to know if it was safe to tell him about Marik's other half. I didn't see him often, but when I did it was dreadful.

His lifeless, indolent gaze which seemed to fasten on all of my features. The way he leered at me those eyes, it petrified me. His lips coiling into his trademark smirk, words and body language accompanied with his horrifying aura all turned him into someone from a horror movie. Except this was real life. He never really scared me, because I knew he wouldn't hurt me as long as I had what he wanted. I can only imagine the torture he will inflict on me now, as revenge. This time I am scared. More scared than I ever imagined.

I take a deep breath, slowly shutting off my computer and rising.

"I'm, I'm gonna go take a drive," I mutter, grabbing my keys and stalking out of the house before he can answer. I just need to be alone and reflect on everything that's happened. I feel more alone than ever before, and it sucks.

The air outside is cool, it's paradise since I felt so cooped up and stuffy in the house. In no time I'm rumbling down the empty street, charging across intersections and past a lone car now and then. Hondo often teases me about my road rage, calling me a speed demon. He's more of a slow-pokey driver, which is why I never drive with him. Now that I think about it, everything he does annoys me beyond belief. How in the _hell_ did he manage to become my only friend. That's a mystery for another day.

I roll down my windows, losing track of my thoughts as I drive around the city, having no idea or consent to where I'm going. The hard cement rumbles underneath my tires, only igniting the fiery fury enveloping inside me. I love driving, I could drive for hours with no purpose, no where to go. I usually do it to calm my nerves, yet this time it feels especially nice since I haven't been outside or on the road for a good while.

Rolling up my windows, I turn onto an empty highway, overlooking a medium sized mountain. On one side, is a small railing to hinder falling off the side, should a car ram into it. On the other is the rocky side of a mountain, speeding past me as I drive quickly across it. My thoughts continue to drift back to Marik's other half. Everyone referred to him as Yami Marik, yet his real name is unknown. He is Marik, the sole manifestation of the evil thoughts, anger, and perverted desires erupting within Marik's core. Every immoral consideration that has ever crossed Marik's mind was added to the dark force within him. I've never heard of something like that happening, and it only adds to my unmistakable gut feeling like there's more at play here.

I sigh, hearing the wind whistling against my ear as my window, for no reason at all, begins to roll down. I fiddle with the button, slowing down as my attention is directed towards the button. I really don't need my hair blowing everywhere, especially on this cliff. Eventually I resort to parking the car in the middle of the road, furiously pushing against the plastic button.

"Stupid fucking-" I'm cut off by my sharp cry as the car jerks to a start, the steering wheel turning on its own. I recoil against the leather cushions, seizing the wheel and attempting to regain control as hard as I can as the machine swerves dangerously close to the railing. I'm able to veer out of that direction, body trembling uncontrollably as whatever unknown force is possessing my vehicle causes it to lurch towards the railing once more.

Before I can even scream the tires aren't even touching the ground anymore. I'm airborne, flying through the air, downwards to my demise. As soon as a lavish scream escapes my throat my body is jolted like a rag as my car rolls again and again and again downwards, bouncing from the sheer force as it rolls to a stop.

The car is crunched inwards, my door digging into my side. The shattered windshield's children line my arms, warm blood dripping down my tanned flesh. Goosebumps prick my skin, and I'm so cold, my body immobile and on it's side, the position my car has come to rest at. I wonder if any permanent damage has been done to my brain, or if I'm internally bleeding. I'm in too much pain to think, a headache pounding against my forehead. It's too much, too much to handle, yet I eventually, after twenty minutes of waiting, undo my seatbelt.

I then sit in silence for a bit more, my body readjusting to accommodate my current whereabouts. I rest for a bit, my torso slumping down against the dented door. My legs are resting by the pedals, aching like crazy. It's useless to cry for help, so I decide to spare my voice at least. I can't imagine moving around right now, let alone walking. The thought only increases the amount of pain balled up inside my left calf. It's almost like a growing pain, which I haven't gotten in years. I'm not a very tall person, so I didn't experience them much, but when I did it was unbearable. Not as bad as the cramps I encountered when I first started my cycle, which was in the tombs. Where there was no heating pads or tea, which I've found might helpful, so it hurt like a bitch.

This is a different kind of pain, and I'm surprised I can still keep my eyelids open. It's like a tugging feeling that yanks at my pain cords every now and then, causing me to wince. Up until now I've been unaware of the tears, which I've noticed are streaming down the bridge of my nose and across my left cheek onto the cold metal. I assume it is a side effect of pain.

Gradually my senses return, my first rational thought being, 'Where is my phone.'

No, this is no horror movie where the protagonist coincidentally left her phone at home. Don't expect me to enter a dark room without turning the lights on first either, because I can barely walk around my house at night without flipping every switch there is. Unfortunately, I cannot find my phone, and I would have to crawl out of my car's carcass to find it.

Shakily, my limbs lift me up, pulling me out of the wreckage and onto the ground, crickets chirping around me. It's so dark. I can't see shit. No way am I going to find my phone, but for now it's my only option. I fumble around in the darkness, waiting for my stupid eyes to adjust when I first sense it.

The dark has always been notoriously known for causing fear in the bravest of souls, especially when one is alone. I feel as if I'm being watched, and the incessant rustling of the bushes and animal noises isn't comforting in the slightest. I take a deep breath. This isn't so bad. You may have to wait out here for one measly night. You can do this Ishizu.

I'm much more calm about the situation than I imagined, perhaps because I'm so thankful I'm still alive and functioning. As I continue the search, I'm confronted with a tingling sensation against the back of my neck. I brush the spot deftly, believing it to be merely a bug and nothing more.

However, the persistent little thing continues, causing me to turn around. I feel a presence unlike any other, one that is far too familiar to me. By now I know the fingers threaded through my hair belong to him, as he reveals himself to my sight. I yank away, maintaining a safe distance apart from him. His appearance is nothing short of brilliant: tall, dark and above all menacing.

I eye a small glimmer attached to his belt, observing it to be a small blade. I gulp, his dark purple eyes locking on mine, a lascivious gaze compressed inside them.

"How very nice to see you Ishizu, I was worried you would not survive my little test." He giggles maniacally, all strings of insanity attached to his voice as he strides around me in a circle, eyeing every curve and blood splatter lining my body.

"I was hoping to make a more theatrical entrance, present myself to you in a more believable way, rather than these," he looks around, raising a brow at the no doubt still new settings to him.

"..woods. However," he clears his throat, a coolness pressed against each word that rolls off his tongue with ease.

"I simply could not wait any longer to see you, dearest one." He must've seen this as his one chance, since I've been following Hondo around like a puppy for the past week. I'll admit it's not the best place for something like this, yet just as unbelievable. Still, here he is, in the flesh.

"What have you done to Marik?" I hiss, my voice laced with repulse. He chuckles darkly, a taunting expression oozing with pride crossing his face, lips curling into a grin. "I know more than you ever could wish to know, little one, more than your puny mind can comprehend. To obtain this most appealing form, your dear brother would have to be in a state of immobility. You should thank me for choosing not to kill him," he mutters, before stepping closer and cornering me against the car. "..Yet."

I glare at him fiercely, as he presses his body against mine, his face entangling within my hair. His arms hold my torso in place, although I struggle against him. He grinds his body against mine, and no matter how hard I struggle he forces me to feel it. He's right, his powers are far beyond my capability, yet he still enjoys to toy with me in different ways. He grinds against me harder until I gasp sharply, and I can tell he grins with pleasure against the back of my neck.

'_Can you feel how badly I want you?' _

This causes my eyes to widen again, his voice clear and present, resounding in my thoughts. It's not like this ability was unknown to me, but I guess with his presence and the words that followed only increase its effectiveness.

I struggle to get out of his grasp, which only causes his grip on my arm to tighten. I can hear him whispering, mainly to himself, yet the words are still audible to my ears.

"Not yet," he mumbles, as if he needs to be reminded. "Patience is a virtue." He remarks a bit louder before pulling back and releasing me. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes before grinning at me once more.

"Are you ready to go home?" He asks, taking immense pleasure at my confused expression before my vision goes black.


End file.
